


Dark Roast

by generalvogel



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, I'll add more warnings later, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:03:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6089422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalvogel/pseuds/generalvogel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux hated his job.<br/>Well, it’s not like he hated it. It payed well and allowed him to buy enough food at the end of the week so he wouldn’t starve. He hated his job specifically because of the customers. Hux would come into work, do his shift, go home, and do whatever bullshit he wished to do. But there was always that one asshole customer that made the rest of his day a living hell on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well here it is. A coffee-shop AU. And I don't even like coffee????  
> More chapters will be coming soon, this was just a setup as to what's going on. I haven't written fanfiction in a while, so sorry for any inconsistencies, but for now, enjoy :)  
> \--------------------------  
> Tumblr: vogelkatzen.tumblr.com

Hux hated his job.

Well, it’s not like he  _ hated _ it. It payed well and allowed him to buy enough food at the end of the week so he wouldn’t starve. He hated his job specifically because of the customers. Hux would come into work, do his shift, go home, and do whatever bullshit he wished to do. But there was always that  _ one asshole customer _ that made the rest of his day a living hell on Earth. However, that customer had yet to show up and quite frankly, he was bored out of his mind.

Hux glanced around the coffee shop and then back at the clock. 9:16. He had less than an hour left until closing and people still bothered to come in for their stupid cup of caffeinated bean water. There was a couple seated by the window, holding hands and grinning idiotically at each other. Occasionally they would pull out a phone and take pictures with a vintage filter, adding a lyric from some band Hux had never heard of. Okay, he may have made that last part up. There was an older man, hunched over at the bar looking longingly at his cup. He was a regular here. Nice guy, a businessman. But he didn’t talk much so it wasn’t much for company.

Drumming his fingers on the freshly cleaned counter (one could only clean it so many times in an hour), Hux let out a bored sigh. It was getting harder to stay conscious, especially after being surrounded by soulless zombies. The muted sounds of cars outside the window mixed with the quiet stirring of the machines behind him. Hell, there wasn’t even any music playing. He rested his his hand against his cheek and closed his eyes, hoping to just rest until his shift was over.

The counter beneath him shook after a fist pounded on the wood. Hux looked up, drowsy and aggravated, at the dickhead who decided to wake him. Wake him.  _ Oh fuck _ , he frantically looked at the clock. 9:47. The patrons have disappeared, besides the businessman, who was still staring into his full cup. Hux looked back at the customer, now pissed that they walked in ten minutes before closing time. 

“Can I  _ help _ you?”

“Yeah, actually. Can I just get a dark roast? No cream or sugar or any of that light shit.” He was tall. Freakishly tall, with dangly limbs and stupid hair and a big nose and god _ damn _ did Hux feel attracted. Wait, what? No. 

“Excuse me?”

“This is a coffee shop, right?”

“We’re about to close.”

“In what, ten minutes? I drink fast.” He smirked and tossed a crumpled $20 in front of Hux, before turning away and walking to a table in the corner. Shaking his head in disbelief, Hux turned on the man and started on the order. As he poured the water, he couldn’t help but glance back at the stranger. He was hunched over, one hand tangled in his mass of tangled hair while the other scrolled through his phone. What right did he have, walking in so late? Did he have no respect for people? He probably didn’t even have a job. Just one of those types who liked to walk in and--

A searing pain split through his hand, causing him to loudly gasp.  Hot water dripped over the side of the counter and onto the tile flooring. He glared over at the emo giant, who was silently laughing at the other side of the room.  _ Rude _ . Wiping the counter down for the thousandth time, Hux mumbled to himself that it was only ten more minutes until closing. Surely he could take this bullshit until then? He poured the coffee into a small cup and took out a black marker. Usually they only write on the to-go cups, but Hux had some choice words to say and he didn’t exactly care about his job. 

He walked over to the table and slid the cup with ease at the man, who grinned at him like he was the most innocent angel in the universe. 

“Thank you,” the man taunted, looking back at the red mark staining Hux’s skin. 

“Hurry up and finish. I’d like to actually go home and sleep.”

Without waiting for a response, Hux turned away and started to put everything away for the night. He went into the backroom to lock away the safe, as well as wipe down all the tables and stools. By now the businessman had left, as if he had never been there. Maybe he never was. That’d be some weird shit, wouldn’t it? Hux walked back out, only to find the man gone, but his garbage littered the table. He looked back at the clock. 9:59. Of course, of  _ fucking _ course he would do this. Hux picked up the trash bag and went to swipe everything off the table, only to realize something else was written on the cup.

_ Told you I’d be done in ten minutes ;) _

A winky-face.  _ Oh how sweet of him to put that in there _ , Hux thought sarcastically, before dumping into the bag. The clock changed to 10:00 and Hux rushed out of the doors, turning off the lights and locking the seven locks on the door. Why there were so many, he would never know.  _ Paranoid owners _ , he scoffed. Hux dumped the bag into the can on the sidewalk and tucked his hands into his coat. Streetlights flickered overhead as his footsteps echoed on the city streets,  and although he was desperate to get home and forget the awful night he had, Hux still couldn’t get the thought of that man out of his head. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux still hates his job, but maybe a little less than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm sorry this took so long to write.  
> Actually that's a lie. I wrote it all tonight in like an hour because I had a surge of motivation.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Hux is fun to write
> 
> My tumblr is vogelkatzen come talk to me about kylux

Hux still hated his job.

The shop was pretty busy. The lunch rush was dying down- businessmen and students were scattered amongst the discoloured chairs, chatting and gossiping about their day. Or what would occur later on. Hux didn’t mind the rush. It was tedious, but it kept Hux busy and far away from boredom, which he appreciated immensely. Whenever he found himself not focusing on the flurry of customers, his mind would drift to the man from before. What was his name? Kyle? Kevin?

It had been a few weeks since their first encounter. Every day the man would come in ten minutes before closing time, order the same order, sit at the same table, and leave. They exchanged names on the third day, the man writing it down on his receipt. Of course, Hux threw it out before closing up the shop, but not without glancing at the slanted, scribbled handwriting. _Damn him_. A bell rang at the counter, quickly drawing Hux out of his daydreaming.

“Hey, Hux!”

Hux rolled his eyes at the girl standing at the bar. He walked over to them, sliding his hand across the tiled counter.

“Hey, Phasma.”

She smiled back at him, flipping her platinum blonde hair out of her face. She was wearing a huge, black, scarf that practically wrapped around her body. There was a metallic clip holding the fabric in place. Phasma worked as an information associate at a nearby office. The same office that was run by Hux’s father.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Bullshit.”

An old man scoffed at her language. Hux glared daggers at her as he filled up a cup of water. Phasma flashed him a cheeky grin before looking back at Hux.

“Why else would you continue to take night shifts? I know you hate it when the place is empty. You’re the actual definition of a workaholic.”

Hux sighed. “I don’t _hate_ it. It’s just the people.” He slid the cup towards Phasma, who placed a penny in the tip jar.

“It’s always ‘just the people’ with you.”

Hux laughed and shook his head. She knew him better than anyone. Hux never really got along with anyone else, honestly. Phasma just always understood.

“Don’t scare away my customers.” He called to her, turning away from the girl.

The day went by relatively smoothly. People came and went, taking their “secret menu” cappuccinos in hand and dumping petty change into the tip jar. Hux wiped off the counter, purposefully avoiding the older guy at the end of the bar. He glanced over at the clock. _9:34._ There were only two customers in the shop. A teacher finishing grades on a stack of papers and the older man. Of course, the teacher had paid Hux a significant amount in advance, politely saying that he’d be there for a while. And then the old man was a regular. There was only one thing missing-- No. Stop that. Hux packed away all of the ingredients, letting only one machine run as it poured hot water into a single cup. The bell on the door rang as the teacher left, echoing across the empty shop.

 _9:40._ The shop was closing soon. Hux drank his cup of tea, being that he absolutely hated the taste of coffee. How ironic.

 _9:50._ He grew concerned, thinking about the man that always came ten minutes before closing. Hux started to draw the wooden blinds over the windows, trying to keep himself occupied as he subconsciously waited for the man’s arrival. He even glanced up and down the street for any sign of the stranger.

It had started to rain.

 _9:58._ The bell on the door rang across the dark shop. Hux peered from the back room, where he was gathering his belongings. A man stood at the counter, dripping onto the freshly cleaned floors. _Fuck._

“Where have you been?”

The question left Hux’s mouth before he even had time to think about it. He felt his cheeks starting to grow red from secondhand embarrassment.

“They wouldn’t let me leave.” The man groaned, sitting on a chair at the bar.

Hux had already started filling his usual order, grumbling to himself how he now has to stay overtime. And re-clean that chair. And mop the floor. Just a plethora of things, honestly.

“They?” Hux asked, placing the hot cup by the man, whose head had fallen on the counter, hair fanning out everywhere. He then picked up a mop from the back and began to soak up the rain that tarnished his handiwork.

“My job.”

“I wasn’t aware you had a job.”

“What, did you think I was homeless?”

“Something like that.”

The man laughed, picking up the cup. “Well, I have to pay for this somehow.” Hux let out a small laugh. The prices were a bit ridiculous, he had to admit. He guessed that the owner preferred to have a classier reputation than the college hotspot down the street. “The Resistance” had just recently opened up and became “The First Order”’s biggest competitor. Especially on such a busy route during the day. “How do you always get my name wrong?”

Hux paused what he was doing, turning to look back at the man, who was holding up his drink. “Well, I assumed since you always left your trash lying about, you didn’t really care.”

“It shows your commitment and appreciation towards the customer,” the man smirked, mocking him. “You’d probably attract more customers if you didn’t have a disgusted look on your face all the time… Hux?”

He was reading Hux’s name tag. This man was lecturing him on mannerisms in the workplace and still had to look at his _fucking_ name tag. “That’s only towards you,” he scoffed, returning to his work.

“Why towards me?”

“Because you’re an asshole.”

Hux never even heard the man rise from his chair before realizing that he was standing directly in front of him. He looked up at the man, confused. The man smiled and grabbed Hux’s hand. “My name is Kylo. Kylo Ren.”

Right, right, right. They had a conversation similar to this before. _Definitely not a Kevin._ “I’m Hux. That’s all you need to know.”

Damn, that man’s smile could end world hunger. Hux couldn’t help but admire his features. No. Stop that. Hux broke the eye contact, taking the equipment back to the storage room. In the process, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He found Kylo still waiting for him by the bar.

“It’s still raining outside.”

Obviously? The sound of water hitting the windows filled the awkward silence. “I’m aware.”

“Do you need help getting home.”

“I can handle myself.” Hux stated, sharply. “Plus, I have a car, so it’s fine.”

“Oh.”

 

The two men stepped outside the shop, not before Hux locked the seven locks as per his usual routine. Kylo, whose name Hux definitely remembered, brushed against his shoulder as they stepped out onto the wet, concrete sidewalk. The streetlights reflected off the ground, illuminating the foggy atmosphere. Then, they parted ways.

When Hux got home, he dropped his soaked bag by the doorway. His cat, Millicent, peeked up from her spot on the couch where she had been sleeping. She rose to her feet and stretched before hopping down and greeting her soggy human. Hux knelt down to pet the ginger tabby, before noticing a small slip of paper lying next to the bag. Picking it up, Hux noticed the same scrawled handwriting as before, written in Hux’s fine-tipped Sharpie he kept by the counter.

_Hopefully you remember this time. Kylo Ren Call Me #######_


End file.
